


Quiet

by starrelia (orphan_account)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Disabled Character, Cisgender, Disabled Character, Gen, Hinted feelings, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Sibling Incest, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-11 13:01:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8980837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/starrelia
Summary: In Hanzo's opinion, it is a foolish thing of Genji to desire them to be close when they argue and fight, and only seem to really bond over fighting and spars.[Oni!Genji based]





	1. Quiet

**Author's Note:**

> I kept thinking about the Oni Genji skin and the idea that that is a Genji that never got to meet Zenyatta, that he never got a chance to lose his hatred, and I decided to write something for it that ended up becoming a two-parter that sort of started this idea that maybe Genji is a bit unhealthily obsessed with Hanzo? I have no clue when the second part will come out, I legitimately don't know, but I just really wanted to write this.
> 
> This spiraled completely out of my control as I was writing this.

It is not the first time that Genji has pissed their father off, and it is not the first time that Hanzo finds himself sitting in a quiet fury as their father lectures him. Despite the anger in his voice, there is clear pain on his face, a lacking desire to actually be angry at Genji yet—

“Why do you keep _tarnishing_ the Shimada name?” Their father asks, his voice on the very _edge_ of yelling, but Genji just gives him a disinterested look and a tilt of his head, as though waiting for their father to continue. As though _this_ is uninteresting to him; for all the freedom that their father has given him, some quiet, barely there restraints exist, and yet Genji willingly ignores them.

Something in Hanzo stirs with upset, disappointment and anger, wanting nothing more than to yell at Genji to _behave_ for once. “I’m sorry, father.” Genji says once their father is done lecturing and speaking, the words automatic and hollow, and he slowly stands up and stretches. Everything about him is elegant carelessness, and once, once, Hanzo is sure that he will have wondered how it is that Genji can make carelessness look so beautiful.

Now, it just infuriates him with an anger that he knows not how to deal with. He looks away when Genji glances over to him, his expression oddly hopeful from what Hanzo briefly sees, and he ignores the sigh from the other before he leaves. “Don’t be angry at him, Hanzo.” His father says after some time, his hands curled into tight fists on his knees. “Give your brother time. He’ll come around, eventually.”

 _‘I doubt it.’_ Hanzo thinks to himself, but he stays respectfully quiet as he stands, bows, and makes his leave when his father gives him a dismissive wave of the hand.

 

Foolishly so, he chases after his brother—he looks for him, asks the servants, politely, if they know where he is and he keeps going on chase after chase for Genji. He almost expects him to be out and about, sleeping with men, women, in-betweens or neither as he walks all over their home before he stops at their dōjō and finds his brother cleaning up his swords.

In comparison to Hanzo, Genji collects them – he has more than he actually uses, and most of them don’t need any cleaning, save for Ryuu Ichimonji.

“Genji.” Hanzo calls out and, briefly, his brother tenses up before he relaxes and looks over his shoulder. “Have you really no shame for what you’ve done?” He asks tersely and Genji immediately looks away from him, busy cleaning up an unnamed sword – elegant, gorgeous, with gold linings and cherry blossoms lining it – and Hanzo bristles. “Genji! Look at me and answer me!”

“I don’t need to, anija.” Genji says. “I won’t feel shame for not wanting to be part of something I don’t really care about, you know? So no, I don’t feel shit shame for it at all.”

The anger in him merely grows. “When will you _grow up?!”_ He yells. “Look at you! You have the entire empire at your feet and you are _wasting it all_ by being an immature, shameful brat!” It takes all his strength to keep from charging over to Genji and turn him around, to make him look at Hanzo, and every bit of his body trembles with barely-concealed rage. “When will you learn to act like an adult!? You shame like nothing else in the world!”

It is then that Genji stops cleaning the sword, his back facing Hanzo, and yet—yet he notices the trembling.  His shoulders shake, his back hunching over, yet he hears no sobs, no. He knows full well that his brother is not so sensitive that he will cry from such words from Hanzo, yet this—this is definitely different.

His grip on his sword is tight and nearly painful, from what little that Hanzo can see, and a childish part of him thinks that Genji is definitely going to break his sword like in the animations he remembers watching.

He doubts it, yet with how his skin pales from his hard grip… Hanzo wonders.

The room feels much colder now, and Genji trembles before him with a seething rage as he turns to face Hanzo. His lips twitch, hands resting limply by his side and he can see the struggle for his  brother to keep his face neutral.

A quiet rage _seeps_ from Genji, something that he has never felt in his lifetime, and the hateful – _murderous_ – look in his eyes makes Hanzo come to an absolute _stop._ “Anija.” Genji says with a strained voice, something venomous just on the very tip of his tongue that begs to come out, and he exhales roughly through his nose. “I’m going to leave now.”

“We are not—“ Hanzo begins as Genji starts to leave, but the other whips around and bares his teeth at him, catching him off-guard.

“Shut. Up!” Genji practically hisses out like a snake and then throws the sword he has yet to put aside, and Hanzo stares as it clatters noisily on the ground before he looks up to see his brother practically flee him.

Genji has always known to be swift and silent, a deadly thing, and Hanzo doesn’t bother chasing after his brother when he is clearly so incensed. A physical fight is not something that Hanzo wants, and it will merely upset and pain their father more to see them resort to fighting.

It is one thing to always argue and have to sit aside and try and mitigate the damages, but it is another to see the brothers try and physically _fight_ one another.

* * *

“Hanzo!” He looks over his shoulder, behind him to Genji who walks up to him with two swords – one of his very own Ryuu Ichimonji, and the other belonging to Hanzo – and he throws the sheathed katana over to him which he catches with ease. “Yo! I’ve been falling behind on my training, help me out before father bitches at me.”

He studies his brother a bit, trying to find any traces of the previous anger, of the maliciousness that he didn’t know his brother is capable of, but there’s nothing more than a hopeful glint in his eyes while Genji grins wide, adoring, and Hanzo frowns. “Of course. To see you actually try and train… what a change of pace.”

Hanzo eventually stands up and unsheathes his own katana – it’s been cleaned, looks absolutely spotless, and he doesn’t even doubt who has cleaned it – before he sheathes it again. “Shouldn’t we be training with our wooden katanas, Genji?” He asks while they head over to the dōjō. “This is very dangerous of you, brother.”

“Naw.” Genji shakes his head. “We’re not gonna kill each other, and what’s a couple of nicks and scratches from sparring, huh? All it’ll mean is that I gotta train more. Gotta keep up if I wanna be attractive still.”

Of course he thinks of his attractiveness. He frowns at his brother and readies his stance, and Genji just looks at him with a smile – strained, fake, unlike his grin of before and Hanzo wonders what he is hiding from his older brother. “Are you ready, anija?” He asks, tauntingly, as he takes his own stance, and yet the oddly strained smile stays on his face.

“Always, brother.” Is his response before he is charged by Genji, their swords clashing against each other and the sound a satisfyingly welcome thing to Hanzo after his busy day today. He loses himself in their little dance and sway, though he finds himself being pushed to be more defensive as Genji plays aggressively against him.

His face is focused, clearly concentrating with his all on the battle, and yet his eyes glow widely whenever Genji thinks he is going to cut Hanzo – barely – and he shoves that thought away. It is nothing more than adrenaline acting up, and Hanzo defends himself as best he can despite Genji’s aggression.

He slips, once, and Genji’s sword grazes his cheek and slices it – not enough for it to be worrying, but enough for blood to flow with ease. He hisses at the pain, focuses on Genji again, and Hanzo falters when absolute joy takes over his brother’s expression.

With barely enough time to answer, he finds himself pinned beneath Genji with the sword barely against his throat, both of them breathing heavily and his brother’s face is flushed… and Hanzo has never seen it so red before.

“Anija…” Genji murmurs, as though he hasn’t even realised he has said it, before he sighs and pushes himself off of Hanzo with a big grin. “I win!” he pushes himself up and Hanzo takes his offered hand. He can’t help but flinch when Genji strokes the cut on his cheek, a move far too intimate and too close for Hanzo’s liking. “Sorry.”

That is all he says before Genji sets his sword away and makes his hasty leave, nothing more than the few words he has said, and Hanzo sits up and sets his sword aside.

He thinks he should be concerned about the way Genji has decided to look at him when he bleeds, and yet he has no clue how to bring it up. How does one ask their brother if they like seeing their older brother in pain?

 _‘Ridiculous.’_ He tells himself. _‘I am being a paranoid fool, when all it is that Genji is angry and being immature about it.’_ He repeats this to himself while he makes his way back to his room to continue his work, and yet…

Yet he stops in the middle of a hallway and looks behind him, his cheek still bleeding yet slowly now, and Hanzo feels ridiculous. He stands here, bleeding, about to go to his room without even getting a band aid for the cut, and now he is looking over his shoulder.

Shaking his head, he makes a quick detour to grab a band aid before he heads back to his work.

* * *

As of late, Genji has been coming to him for more and more spars than Hanzo remembers him ever coming for. He tries to pinpoint what may have even caused it; can it have been that his lecture that has angered him is what changed Genji’s mind? Impossible. Nothing like that can truly change his brother’s mind, and he really wonders if it’s because he has someone to impress.

Is it for the sake of romance? If so, what a lover’s notion… clearly a lover’s notion, but Hanzo can find no other way to put it. But then, Genji doesn’t normally care for romance and such things; his life is fleeting, quick and gone. There is nothing that can keep him grounded, though… Hanzo finds himself feeling a bit unsure.

Still, they are sparring together, and that seems to bring their father joy.

Speaking of, his father doesn’t seem to mind if he is late in handing in work that has been assigned by the clan – all their agreements and trades and deals can wait while the brothers bond, his father says with a glowing smile on his aging face, and Hanzo thinks he prefers this side of their father more.

“I’m glad Genji has been spending more time with you, even if it is to try and kill you.” His father jokes. “It seems that he’s even becoming as good as you are, judging by all the cuts and scratches you’ve been getting lately, Hanzo.”

Hanzo wants to mention how he has yelled at Genji. He wants to mention that the desire to spar is nothing more than Genji trying to find ways to hurt him, trying to get back at him for insulting him so, for yelling at him so, but the part of him that wants his father’s happiness to stay tells him to not say anything.

How can he tell father that he suspects that him yelling and cursing Genji’s honour is what has caused this, really?

He bows his head. “Genji has become very aggressive with his attacks.” He comments. “It suits him far more.” And it is not as if Hanzo is lying. Secretly, he’s glad Genji has found a fighting choice he is good at. “Though I do not know if that will be fine for…” Hanzo hesitates and curses himself for it. “For… for assassinations, father.”

A frown appears on his father’s face. “You must lose your reluctance at the thought of assassinations, Hanzo.” He says. “Well, even if you don’t, I don’t expect you to be the assassin.” His father says and Hanzo looks at him curiously. “I do actually want _Genji_ to be the assassin. He has no patience at all for meetings, he looks like he’d rather die in spot than deal with businessmen, and you have the patience of a saint.

“I want you to tell him what I want, Hanzo.” His father finishes. “When I die, I want for you both to take on the empire as the heads – one in the shadows, and one in the light and forefront of it all.”

He hesitates. “I’ll tell him, father. I doubt—“  He pauses for a bit then and remembers the excitement and absolute glee that Genji exhibits in sparring, and he has to sit back and rethink his thoughts, his words. “I don’t know how Genji will react.” He says honestly, and his father claps a hand onto his shoulders and smiles.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure it won’t be anything bad. Now, go, I need to meditate and you’ll just be a distraction, Hanzo.”

He is dismissed with nothing more said, and he immediately tries to find Genji. He doesn’t find him in the gardens nor does he find him in the dining area – though, he checks with the chefs to see if Genji has eaten or not and he luckily has – and he eventually goes to knock on his brother’s door.

“Genji?” Hanzo calls out, and his brother eventually slides the door open for him and looks up at him with shining eyes and a pleasant smile. “I need to speak to you with matters of the family.” The smile immediately falls from his brother’s face, and he is witness to something far more neutral and quietly terrifying, and his brother lets him in.

“What does father want this time?” The impatience in Genji’s voice is clear and Hanzo bites his lower lip, agitated, and he places a lock of hair behind his ear before he sighs.

He takes a seat nearby and Genji falls before him unceremoniously with one knee raised while the other leg curls, and Hanzo shifts. “Father wants you to be an assassin should you take the head of the empire.” He bows his head, avoiding looking at Genji’s face, but he hears a sharp inhale and he looks up to see…

To see an excited expression, eyes wide with interest and intrigue at the idea, and Hanzo’s eyes widen. However, soon enough, Genji’s expression smooths over and he looks disinterested. “I don’t want to take over the empire.” He says. “But I still want to stay in the family with you, anija.”

He frowns. “We might have to disown you.” Hanzo practically chokes on the words saying that, anxiety hammering his chest for a moment before it fades [slowly], and Genji stiffens up.

“We’re inseparable.” Genji says softly, and he has to swallow down the disbelieving laughter. They have been separable for years, he wants to spit out, but Genji’s voice is so vulnerable that it forces nothing more than a silence from Hanzo. “I do not want to leave you, anija, but I do not want to take over either.”

“… Then I have nothing more to say to you.” Hanzo says and, with that, he stands up.

“Will you stay for a while longer, anija?” Genji asks when Hanzo moves to leave. “We haven’t done anything together besides fight. I have some movies for us. A few games?”

Against his better judgement, Hanzo falters. He hesitates, looks at his brother’s embarrassed and worried face, takes in the way he chews on his lower lip…

… and despite his responsibilities, he sits back down and Genji beams up at him, and Hanzo will not know why his brother desires to have him around, nor does he know why his brother still looks so joyful and gleeful whenever he bleeds.

For the former Hanzo knows they argue too often and the desire to still be close if a foolish and hollow one that clings to their childhood and the latter he blames purely on adrenaline.

Nothing more.

 

 

When Hanzo finally leaves his brother’s room, his face a bit flushed from the laughter he doesn’t expect to have at a movie that Genji has, he finds himself being grabbed by someone and he stares into a flustered and terrified face. “What-“ Hanzo begins, but he doesn’t get to finish as the servant interrupts him.

“Master Shimada has collapsed!” She cries out. “He— he requested for you, and I searched all over for you, Master Hanzo, he… he… Master Hanzo, I do not think he has long in this world, anymore.”

* * *

The koi in their pond has always been a source of calm for Hanzo, especially in the spring as their father slowly decays in bed. It is the stress that has gotten to him, finally, and it is not unexpected; he is a hardworking, old man and he has gotten to the end of whatever vigour that has kept him alive for so long.

Yet, still, Hanzo’s heart aches and he sits by the koi pond, hands settling on his knees as he tries to meditate the thoughts away… and yet, this one time, it is difficult to try and empty his mind. All he thinks about is how he has so much yet to do, so much yet to show his father so that he may be proud of him.

The koi swim innocently in the waters, free of their problems, and Hanzo is – briefly – reminded of his brother as they swim around freely. _‘Does anything bother the koi?’_ Hanzo finds himself thinking. _‘And does anything ever bother and perturb my brother’s carefree life so? He seems to shrug everything off a day or so later, and nothing lasts forever on and with him.’_

“I’ve named that one Kiro.” A voice next to him says, and Hanzo finds himself unsurprised as his brother settles down next to him. “And I called the one next to her Meno.”

“And have you named your dragon as well?” Hanzo asks lightly, and Genji gives him the weakest of smiles.

A shrug and a weak chuckle after, Genji answers. “I named mine Hikoi. She seemed to quite like it; have you named yours, anija?”

“No, brother.” Hanzo says, voice very soft. “I have not.” A pause comes from them both, and they both end up staring at the koi pond. “Why are you here, Genji?”

“Father is dying.”

Hanzo merely nods. Genji continues when his silence is all he gets. “I suppose I expected the old man to kick the bucket… but it still feels so soon, y’know? I was expecting a few more years to his life, at least.”

“Our father was energetic.” Hanzo says, and Genji’s brow furrows. “Let us pray for his wellbeing when we can, Genji.” He looks over to Genji, expecting something from him, but all Hanzo gets is a pondering look on his brother’s face as though he is wondering how to respond.

After a moment or so, their brother shrugs. “Yeah. I will. Does this mean you get the empire now, anija?”

That actually surprises him. He leans back a bit before he rights his posture and looks at Genji’s face, wondering why he even bothers asking. “It will go to us both, Genji.” He corrects, but his brother merely frowns and briefly bares his teeth at him. “Do not give me that look.”

“I’ve no interest in our father’s empire.” Genji says sharply. “You can have it.”

“It was our father’s wish that we both have it!”

“Well, I suppose our father was mistaken and foolish to think that I’d ever want it.”

“Genji!” Hanzo cries out, rage building up inside of him. “Do not talk of our ill father that way! Do you have no respect for his wishes?”

Genji hisses. “I have all the respect for our father, but I have no desire – absolutely _none_ – to be a criminal overlord. I’ll make my own name, and nothing you can do will convince me otherwise.”

“How _dare_ you—“ Hanzo begins but Genji glares at him, his body tense and ready to kill, and the quiet, seething hatred of a few days ago returns. For a moment, just a moment, everything feels different… just a moment, when Genji’s expression changes and he seems heartbroken, wanting of something, and Hanzo feels hollow inside as well.

With slumped shoulders, Hanzo looks away. “Let’s not fight.” He says. “That will hurt our father more than you rejecting the empire.”

That seems to be enough to get Genji to quiet down about his desire to ignore the criminal empire, and even Hanzo feels pain in his heart at the thought of ruling the Shimada empire alone. Briefly, he wonders if Genji’s thoughts will change when they go to visit their father one more time and he gets to speak his mind freely to his sons.

A part of him hopes, desperately so, that Genji will rule alongside him… disowning him is an idea that brings sorrow to Hanzo’s heart like no other, and he has to clench his hands into shaking tight fists to keep the sadness at bay.

If Genji notices, he doesn’t say anything, and Hanzo can only hope.

 

 

 

All his hoping is in vain. As the days pass, as their father passes away and the clan pesters Hanzo repeatedly about this… he visits Genji one final time, and asks.

And proceeds to make a mistake he will forever regret. [And in ways he doesn’t even know.]


	2. Solitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wholly, he misses Hanzo. Vividly, Genji hates him so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think that if Genji kept hold of his anger, he'd be very creepy and unsettling... maybe a bit manipulative, but very dangerous and conniving. I also like to believe that if Genji came back and told Hanzo that he is going to punish him, instead of forgive him like he did in the Dragons short, that Hanzo would take the offer because he rather be punished than forgiven... it's very unhealthy.

“Whooyee!” Jesse cries out as his own bullet flies back at him and shoots through his poor hat, sending it fluttering off of him with a new, burning hole in it. “Jeez Genji, ya make a guy think ya wanna kill him.” He says as he puts his gun away, and Genji merely shrugs his shoulders while Jesse goes to pick his hat up. “Ya do know Gabe’s gonna have yer head for being so aggressive, right?”

“Captain Reyes will merely have to deal with it.” Genji says, his English a bit clipped and rusty and far too sharp, but Jesse just shrugs it off and shakes his head. “It is not like he can kick me out of Blackwatch, anyway.”

Cowkid – as Gabriel likes to call him – scratches the back of his head and he shrugs. “I mean… still, d’ya really wanna get lectured by Gabe? He gets so angry an’ all. Even I’m terrified of ‘im, and I ain’t scared of nothing!”

Genji huffs and flexes his fingers, trying – still – to get used to the odd and alienating experience of his new prosthetics—his new body…

His thoughts drift back to Hanzo, and a mix of bile-inducing hatred and stomach-clenching adoration surfaces. He glances over to Jesse, takes in how the cowkid hasn’t bled at all and he thinks about throwing a shuriken his way- nick his cheek, do something to get rid of the anger. It will be nothing like how Hanzo bleeds…

But then, he thinks about how he is standing here barely—how he knows that Overwatch wants to keep him on as tight a leash as they can, and him harming people outside of spars will more than likely make them terminate whatever support they have going for him right now.

Angela has already told him that he still needs to be repeatedly modified—the technology on him, all over him, still makes him ache and she apologises for it profusely, over and over. _‘She’s beautiful when upset,’_ Genji thinks and keeps to himself, and he bows deeply before her to let her know that he isn’t bothered.

“Thank you for your work, doctor Angela.” He remembers saying before he leaves. A few more years, Angela says before he makes his leave, and then he’ll be able to support himself without needing her to replace his hydraulic fluids.

Even the very thought that he is more machine than man, a mixture of omnic and human in a perverse sense, makes him want to wrap his hands around Hanzo’s neck and snap it.

 _‘What else will you do when your brother’s gone?’_ A voice nags at him from the back of his head, hissing at him and angry that he even bothers thinking of something like that. What will he do when his brother is gone? Wander aimlessly, looking for something else to fill the hole in his damn heart?

 

Probably. It doesn’t sound too appealing. “Ya ready to go back to some more lectures?” Jesse says, and that is the only thing that catches Genji’s attention. The man rambles, and he is sure that the man has rambled about something or another, but Genji doesn’t think the cowkid cares.

“Sure cowkid,” Genji says and Jesse protests at the nickname. “Let us hope you do not get too bored again, or else Captain Reyes will drag you out by the ear.”

Jesse flinches. Genji smiles, even when his scarred face is hidden by his visor.

* * *

When he has nothing else to do in his years in Blackwatch – he refuses to make friends with anyone here, anyone that isn’t Jesse at least because that man is stubborn – Genji finds himself making clothes for himself. He thinks of the onis from back home and builds his new attire based off of the tales of onis.

Nothing soothes him more than what he is doing right now, but it is only a temporary thing as the anger that flows through his new veins never once dissipates whenever he looks himself in the mirror. He doesn’t know why he keeps it, why he hasn’t bothered throwing it away. What does it matter that his hair may be a mess under his helmet?

What does it matter that he can’t style himself how he wants to? The mirror shouldn’t be there, for he doesn’t bother with his beauty anymore, but yet he keeps it on the wall still and stares into his visor.

 

 

He decides to go out and fight with some of the other recruits; he does hurt a few of them, but not so much so that they can’t come back kicking. No, he mostly hurts them enough for them to have bruised egos and realise that they still need more training if they want to be as good as Genji.

 

“How’d ya learn ta fight like that anyway?” Jesse asks him, wheezing, as he rubs at some shallow cuts on his arms and Genji looks at him curiously. “Ya move so… so cool-like! Like… a ninja!”

Genji looks at him blankly. “Cowkid, Jesse,” Genji says, “I am a ninja. I have come from a family of ninjas. To quote Captain Reyes, what is wrong with you?”

“Ya know what I meant.” Jesse murmurs, his cheeks going a bit red from his embarrassment and Genji shakes his head. “M’just curious, is all. Who taught ya?”

He stops and thinks for a bit. He tilts his head back, thinks back to Hanzo, and something malicious curls around his still-beating heart and squeezes. “I learnt how to fight from my brother.” Genji says honestly, lips curling upwards into a cruel smile that Jesse can’t see. “Ever since I was young. I had to learn.” He doesn’t give any more reasons, but Jesse does shift uncomfortably so and Genji wants to laugh.

“Sorry fer askin’.” Jesse admits, and Genji claps him on the shoulder and grins wider when cowkid yelps from pain. “Ey, watch it! Ya really did a number on me.”

 _‘Good.’_ Genji thinks to himself. It may not be as satisfying as hurting Hanzo [or thinking of how he can punish his brother for his atrocities], but hurting Jesse is just as fun. “I will go now, Jesse. Make sure to rest up and heal up so that I can kick your ass again.”

“I’ll get back at’cha!” Jesse claims light-heartedly as Genji walks away, and his smile burns into his back.

 _‘Maybe you and I could have been something.’_ Genji considers for only a moment, before he goes back to his room to finish his little project as a plan starts to form in his mind.

* * *

He fantasizes about Hanzo often. His thoughts often go back to how they both have harmed one another – Genji took his legs, out of pure panic when his dragon emerged and attacked, and Hanzo took his entire body – and he wonders what his brother looks like now. Does he still have the soft face that clashes dramatically with his stern expressions?

Does he still put on lip gloss when he thinks no one notices? Does he still keep his hair long? Does he still have that gentle glint in his eyes? Does he still cry over Genji, like how he has cried when he unleashed his dragons at his brother?

Before, the thought of Hanzo crying has always brought up mixed feelings – anger at himself for enjoying the thought, and worry at the very notion that something can make his dearest brother cry. But now? Now, he can think of nothing more than being the one to make Hanzo cry.

Not because he has “died”, but because he wants to make Hanzo feel the same pain that Genji has gone through. He _will_ steal Angela’s biotic technology if it means he can keep Hanzo in pain for as long as he can, he will do whatever he can to make Hanzo _hurt._

He looks down at the tablet in his hands, reads over one of many articles about how Overwatch is shady, and Genji prays and hopes that it falls sometime soon so that he can chase after Hanzo. The blood that Blackwatch makes him spill only fuels his desire to hurt Hanzo more, to make him pay for all that he as done to him.

All over a disagreement of the empire. Is this what it means to dedicate yourself, wholly, to something to the point that you kill someone? Is it? What bullshit have they fed his brother that he reacts with the irrational decision to murder?

 

No. Just taking down Hanzo isn’t enough. _He needs to take the Shimada empire down as well._

Genji knows his way with words. He knows that if he goes up to Reyes, that if he just talks and talks and convinces him, the man will surely see a reason to send him after his own family. After all, Genji does not really care much for his family’s history, and this will allow him to get back at the family that have ruined his brother.

He just needs to do it before Overwatch falls apart. It’s only a matter of time, and Genji doubts that he has much time left.

With an odd smile behind his visor, he thinks eagerly of being able to see his brother again, and wonders if Hanzo will bleed even prettier than when he has lost his legs. Genji never did get to appreciate that moment much.

* * *

Months have gone by, barely two years it feels, and Jesse comes to him one night and whispers. “I think Overwatch’s goin’ under.” Jesse says and Genji looks at him curiously. “M’leavin’ Gen. Ya wanna run with me?”

It is not as if Jesse is wrong. He looks over to his tablet – he has tabs upon tabs of criticisms of Overwatch open, all of them through the years and all of them scathing – and then back to Jesse. “I don’t think it’s worth bein’ ‘ere anymore, pardner.” Jesse admits sadly, his gaze casting downwards. “An’ I hate sayin’ that.”

This is the softest that Genji has ever heard Jesse being, and he taps his own fingers on his table. “Captain Reyes and Commander Morrison have been at each other’s throats lately.” Genji says. “I don’t think I wanna stay here either. But—I’m not gonna run away with you.”

Jesse’s eyebrows furrow together. “Whaddaya mean?”

“I’ll help you leave—Overwatch and Blackwatch’s security is maddeningly good, and you’re not that sneaky, Jesse.” The cowkid manages to look guilty of himself and he flinches, looks down at his hands, at his clothes and boots really, and then looks up at Genji again. “I’ll help you escape, but I wanna part ways afterwards.”

The cowkid tilts his head to the side – he has grown up to be such an attractive American, it is a shame that Genji’s heart is ensnared by someone else – and then looks back. “Why’d ya wanna part? We make a damn great team and I was… kinda hopin’…”

“My brother, remember?” Genji says. “I can’t really have it easy until I get back at him.”

Realisation and understanding dawns on Jesse’s face and he tips his hat (a gift from captain Reyes, surprisingly) down and nods. “Sorry for forgettin’, pardner. Will I ever see ya again after our leave?”

Genji smiles. He is sure that if Jesse is able to see it, he will be unsettled by it wholly. “Probably, probably not.” He says. “But we’ll see, Jesse.”

 

He doesn’t go to Hanzo immediately. No, he decides to wander and take advantage of his freedom while he still makes the finishing touches on his outfit. What point is there in visiting his brother, if he doesn’t look the part of his brother’s nightmare?

* * *

 

 

Months pass, and Genji finds himself growing restless. He stays in hiding in Numbani, where no one asks questions of anyone who even vaguely looks omnic or otherwise. There, he looks on with anger at those who are freely able to be with their omnic halves. How is it, so, that they can be freely allowed to have a love that he is not allowed to have?

The one that he wants…

 _‘How foolish of me,’_ Genji thinks, _‘to believe that I’ll ever forgive Hanzo. How foolish of me to think that we will ever be close like we used to.’_ He thinks to the tale of the two dragons that he remembers his father telling him.

The dragon brothers turn human, and learn to forgive one another. A tale passed down for years, and Genji thinks back to it and wants to break something.

This is not a foolish story. This is real life, and such happy endings will never occur.

 

 

* * *

Getting back to Japan is an ordeal that Genji never wants to recount to anyone. It is more difficult than it has any right to be, and all because Genji needs to stay in the shadows and stay hidden as best he can. The fact that the world doesn’t have holographic disguises yet and has all these complicated technologies is a sin.

But he makes it back to Japan anyway, and it isn’t that hard to find out where Hanzo is. Over the years, on the same day without fail, Hanzo comes back to give his sword an offering. Over the years, every day, Hanzo lives in secretly near the Shimada castle so that he can punish himself by being in proximity of what is once meant to be his.

He has waited for days to be able to confront his brother in the Shimada castle, dressed in his new outfit – like an oni, like a nightmare – and he waits. He waits and waits, still as a stone, for his brother to knock out the very few bodyguards left behind on the Shimada castle grounds [Hanzo has never been a fan of murder; shame he still killed Genji].

Like every other year before this one, he kneels before Genji’s sword and makes an offering. He prays for his brother’s soul, and quietly begs for the forgiveness that Genji will never give to him. He prays and prays, and Genji watches him with an unholy interest.

“Whoever you are,” Hanzo begins, breaking the silence, “reveal yourself. You are not the first assassin sent to kill me.”

Instead of saying anything, Genji decides to land down and behind Hanzo – he is practically silent, barely making a whisper of a sound, and he slowly raises so that he may look down on his brother. “I am not here to kill you like I have done the rest of the Shimada clan.”

That fires up Hanzo faster than anything else that Genji could have said. He is on his feet [prosthetics, pretty ones too] within moments, his bow drawn [that’s new] and ready to kill Genji [once more]. “Who are you!?”

“Don’t you recognise me?” Genji mocks. “I have known you for so long, wanted you too, and you don’t recognise me? I’m far more hurt.”

It is pitifully easy to dodge the arrow shot his way, and he can see the shake and surprise in his brother’s pose. “You… how dare you! Show yourself right now, assassin!”

With ease, Genji takes one step forward and reveals himself in the moonlight – black and crimson, looking monstrous, and Hanzo… falters. “You… who are you?”

“You really do not recognise me?” He draws his sword then – undecorated, sadly, he still doesn’t have the funds to make his own sword to match his outfit – and gets ready to fight. “Surely if we fight, you will remember. Or do I have to straight up tell you?”

This is something he recognises, and the moment Hanzo fires an arrow his way Genji reacts. They are both quick, and even when his brother has abandoned the sword he is still a formidable foe. It is only when something that Genji does sparks a strong reaction does Hanzo jump back and release his dragons…

… and Genji ever so easily summons his own and manipulates all three away from them and towards the sky.

“No…” Hanzo says and he gives Genji a horrified look, eyes wide with realisation. “It… It can’t be.”

“Brother.” Genji says lightly, his emotions on high when his brother _finally_ recognises him. “I’ve been hoping to see you again.” It is in that brief moment, where Hanzo stares at him with wide-eyed horror like he doesn’t recognise him, that Genji decides to strike.

It’s a dash forward with a sword at Hanzo’s throat when his brother crumbles to his knees, his head tilting back and eyes wide. He presses the blade against his throat a little too hard, digs deep and blood starts to steadily flow – pretty and beautiful against his brother’s skin, paling ever so from the fear.

The red of his outfit stands out in the darkness, illuminated only by the moonlight, and it makes sense – so – for the blood of Hanzo to look so beautiful in the night. Brighter than the red on his costume, and Genji wonders what it will be like to bathe himself in that blood. “What do you think of my costume, brother?”

“What has happened to you?” Hanzo rasps out, the apple of his throat bobbing desperately. “I killed you.”

“I came back from Hell to take you with me.” Genji replies, easily, and he presses the sword in. “I don’t wanna take you to Hell with me, of course. I have no plans on killing you, brother, but I also don’t plan on forgiving you.”

Hanzo is silent, but he does look at Genji as best he can. Shame and regret is written all over his face, eyes struggling to try and find Genji’s eyes through the mask—his poor brother, he doesn’t even know how to deal with him now… a monster of his brother, returning from death only to punish. “Brother, you seek redemption, don’t you?”

“I do.” Hanzo says, though he struggles to not sound angered by this all. Good, he still has some fight in him—Genji wants to ruin it all, like how his life has been ruined. “But you—who are you to dictate yourself to me? You _disappeared_ for a decade, **_brother._** How can I even be sure it’s you?”

Ah, of course. He backs away and looks at his sword and smears the red along the pristine blade, before he backs away and lets it fall – limply – to the ground. He reaches for his mask, and removes it slowly to reveal his scarred face. “I don’t look my handsome self anymore.” Genji sings as he reveals himself, a far too cruel smile on his face. “But surely you can recognise your brother, Hanzo.”

“No.” Hanzo gasps out, and he struggles to stand, a hand coming to his thinly bleeding blood and he coughs. “No—no no. No—you are dead. You are not my brother—you are not my brother—I—I killed you.”

“I came back from Hell.” Genji repeats. “And I have never, ever forgiven you, brother. Should I have, Hanzo?”

He looks away in shame and swallows roughly.

“Your drinking habits have gotten worse.” Genji points out. Hanzo looks up at him in both alarm and confusion. “You drink far too much—I can even smell the alcohol in your breath, but you haven’t even drunk today. Have you?” His brother grits his teeth, but he does shake his head. “Do you think this is punishment enough?”

“You took my legs.” Hanzo says.

Genji snarls. “You took my entire body.” He hisses out. “You haven’t seen punishment _yet,_ **brother.** And you deserve it. You _know_ you deserve it. Look at you! You look like a waste—a degenerate! And you call yourself my _brother._

“How dare you. Is it not fair of me to give you back tenfolds what you have done to me, Hanzo? You tried to kill me. Your dragons attempted to chew me up and spit me out, and I lived only barely. Is me punishing you not fair?”

Hanzo exhales shakily, his face burying in his hands and there is silence that hangs over them. “Look at what you have reduced me to.” Genji says. “Look!”

“I know!” Hanzo yells back. “I regret—I have regretted every moment, my brother. I have regretted—I…” He kneels down slowly, his hands coming down onto the floor and his forehead rests on his hands. “Forgive me, Genji. Please, whatever punishment you have for me, I will take it… for all that I have done to you.”

He makes his way over to Hanzo, stands before him, and lefts his head up with his foot. “Brother.” Genji says, an airy smile on his face. “I love you.”

 

And that is all he says, before he drags his brother away back to his old room and removes his prosthetic legs.

Surely, now, Hanzo will come to fully regret what he has done, and Genji will be able to sate the need for closeness in his heart.


End file.
